Ginny appeared in her flat with a loud crack, and immediately fell to her knees, hyperventilating, tears streaming down her face. "Fuck," she said pitifully. "Fucking, fuck." She was at least relieved that she'd managed to hold off until she'd left Remus's. For a moment, she stared at her dangling shirt strap, transfixed as the morning replayed in her head. Letting her hair fall into her face, she choked on a sob as the scent of Harry filled her nostrils. She stood on wobbly legs and kicked the side of her chair angrily, ignoring the pain shooting into her bare toes. She deposited her things in the chair and peeled off her clothes, leaving them in a trail to the shower. She stood under cold water, numb and unblinking, silently chastising herself for making such a big deal of this.

Her mind wanted to work its way through the logic of the morning. But she shook her head, her mind was not allowed to do that. Harry Potter was back, and she got carried away in a completely unwelcome way. Well, not completely unwelcome, but unwelcome in the ways that could break her. She dried herself and dressed in a pair of denims and one of Ron's threadbare, child hood shirts. It was once dark blue, and the cotton was so well worn it bordered on sheer in the elbows and shoulders. Unbelievably soft, it was usually accompanied, on really bad days, by a glass of strawberry milk and bottomless plates of macaroni and cheese. Strawberry milk in hand, an owl she recognized as her mother's tapped on the glass. She opened the window and sighed, realizing at the thought of her Mum, that she'd utterly forgotten her manners. She found the alumni journal in the pile of things in her chair and scrawled notes to Remus, Tonks, and Hermione.

Ginny claimed her Macaroni and Cheese and settled in with the journal. Not only did it provide a good home for things she didn't want to think of but couldn't seem to keep out of her mind, but there was also harmless conversation happening inside it. Anything resembling normal, thoughtless social interaction was what she needed to keep her mind off of Harry. The journal was perfect. It meant that she didn't have to go outside and risk seeing anyone, and the Mac and Cheese was only a few feet away. After a small nap, a bit of conversation with Seamus and Stephen, two owls to Molly, both of which seemed to be a painful stretch of the imagination but she wasn't ready to talk about anything yet, Ginny stretched and braided her hair. She was thankful that she was communicating with her mother in writing, because she would've never gotten away with the lies in person.

She look around her flat and the mussed journal. Writing in it had helped a bit, but she needed to talk to a real person that didn't cause her any emotional tempests. Pulling on a loosely crocheted hat, she popped a sobering draught into her pocket and walked down Diagon Alley to the Leaky Cauldron. She felt a bit guilty about standing everyone else up, but she figured they didn't miss her.

Luna hugged Seamus as he picked her up, not really knowing why or why she couldn't remember the last few minutes. Had she fallen asleep? She must be tired. Funny, she didn't feel tired. Warm and fuzzy, yes, but not tired.

"Mmmmmm...thank you, Seamus." Her knees seemed to not be working too well....that's strange. "What happened?"

Luna wasn't sure what to do, she stood there looking very wobbly before she decided to take a chance and sit down again. Her eyes were wide and targetless, as is she were looking straight throught the table, through the floor and counting the earthworms in the dirt beneath them.

She licked her lips, not leaning on Stephen pr really acting like she'd herad Seamus suggest it at all.

Between yet another kiss (oh god what was going on?!) and Luna falling onto the floor, Stephen found himself yet again struggling to keep up with the happenings around him. No more alcohol, he thought, not right now. He passed a butterbeer to Luna after hearing her comment about being thirsty. "I promise it's good for you, you'll like that."

He smiled at her and then noticed that Seamus was hugging him, very tightly. He managed to get an arm around him somehow and rubbed his back.

More snuggling? How did he get so lucky, Stephen thought. Wait, when was it something to feel lucky about? He arched a brow at Seamus, tilting his head a little. "Luna likes butterbeer, though, and she really shouldn't get more drunk," he explained, slowly, so everyone could understand.

"I'm not always right. You don't know me very well so you don't know any better," Stephen replied, leaning more against Seamus, but he didn't know why. He was comfortable, too.

"You keep kissing me," he pointed out after a moment. Stating the obvious had always been a special talent of his. It had been a while since someone had been so good to him, or so he thought. Maybe he just couldn't remember. It would have been embarrassing if he was paying any attention to the rest of the room.

Seamus' outburst was almost scary and Stephen was worried he'd really done something wrong. He didn't move his arm, though, and only pulled back because he was startled.

"I didn't say that." Stephen couldn't decide if he wanted Seamus to or not. On the one hand, the attention was so, so nice, but on the other hand, they were in the bloody Leaky Cauldron and since when did he want a bloke to kiss him? "I didn't say that," he repeated, quietly.